


A Kiss, A Cry, Our Rights, Our Wrongs

by DistortedDaytime



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 09:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistortedDaytime/pseuds/DistortedDaytime
Summary: The way back home is more complicated than it used to be.
Relationships: Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos, Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos/Fernando Torres, Sergio Ramos/Fernando Torres
Comments: 16
Kudos: 54





	1. Fernando

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatcrudeandknavishsprite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatcrudeandknavishsprite/gifts).

> My dear and treasured friend....HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU MAGNIFICENT MANY-SPLENDERED BEING! You already know how amazing you are, and since you tell me I words good, I wrote you some words to tell you how glad I am that you exist. Love you much.

The boy from Camas is sunshine incarnate. He gives his affection like it’s an infinite resource, handing out hugs and kisses and smiles with an ease that Fernando envies. 

Loving Sergio is natural, like loving the air on his face and the feel of a book in his hands. 

Leaving Sergio rends him in two.

*

Just like last time, driving to Sergio’s is the first thing Fernando does when he gets back in Madrid. Home. Not Merseyside, not London, but _ home, _where the words wrap effortlessly around his tongue and the boy he’s loved for years became a man.

Sergio hasn’t changed the code on his gate in years so it’s easy to get inside, walk up to the front door, and hope. 

“Fernando?”

That’s all it takes. It always is, enough to melt him and give him the strength to move forward and cup Sergio’s face in his hands. Fernando exhales, watches Sergio’s eyes widen, then kisses him.

Sergio still tastes like summer and kisses like sin; it’s so easy for Fernando to drown in him like he used to, like he dreams about, but Sergio jerks back suddenly, wiping his mouth and looking horrified. 

“Nan- Fernando, no, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

That’s not an answer. “Why not? Just tell me, and don’t say it’s because you don’t love me anymore. You do. You _ have _to.”

Sergio’s expression twists into something almost unbearable. “Because I’m with someone else.”

Fernando’s heart stops. Of course. Of course he is. Sergio’s always been a passionate man and it’s only natural for him to have someone to love and love him in return. That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.

He can’t stay here. With a nod and a muttered goodby Fernando runs away, ignoring Sergio’s shouts behind him.


	2. Gerard

It takes two days of begging, cajoling, and promising favors before Gerard finally weasels Fernando’s contact information out of Antione. It takes another week to gather his courage. They were teammates, yes, but never friends. Fernando always belonged to Madrid. 

And to Sergio.

Finally Gerard hauls himself up off the couch and into his car for the drive to Madrid. Halfway there he pulls over on the A-2, sure he’s going to throw up right there on the side of the motorway, but it passes and he keeps going.

The city greets him like normal, all traffic and mostly good-natured chaos. He finds Fernando’s building easily enough, parks with only a modicum of swearing, then goes to the intercom. It crackles to life, startling him in the process.

“Hello?”

Fucking shit, this is actually happening. “It’s Gerard. Uh, Gerard Piqué,” he starts. “Can I come up?”

The silence drags on so long Gerard’s convinced he’s being ignored. Then, the door buzzes. Gerard scrambles to yank it open. He’s here. He can do this. He doesn’t have a choice. 

Fernando’s waiting in the hallway when Gerard gets upstairs, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeves and shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

“You know why I’m here,” says Gerard.

Fernando winces and nods. “I have a bad feeling I do.”

“So can I come in?”

Gerard steps inside at Fernando’s gesture. It’s a nice place, comfortable if impersonal like all new apartments are. Boxes line the walls; red and white stripes peak out of one and Gerard snorts. Forever a  _ rojiblanco. _

“Like you’re any better about Barcelona,” says Fernando, and Gerard holds his hands up. 

“Never said I was.”

The silence falls heavy and awkward between them. Fuck, how does a conversation like this even start? It’s uncomfortable, and Fernando feels it too, if the way he scurries off to the kitchen is any indication. 

“I’m making coffee!” he yells behind him.

Gerard just shrugs at the empty room. “Uh, okay.”

He can’t hide in the kitchen forever. Fernando has to come out sometime. Probably. Maybe? Yeah, there he is, holding two mugs and shoving one in Gerard’s hand. 

“I don’t know if you take cream, or-” Fernando breaks off and shakes his head so hard his hair falls in his eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t- I can’t just stand here and act like this is normal.”

“No, it’s not normal,” Gerard agrees, and Fernando’s mouth twists unhappily.

“If you’re going to punch me-”

“Wait, who said anything about punching?” asks Gerard.

Fernando, if anything, looks more miserable than ever. “Why else would you be here? I kissed your boyfriend-”

“Fernando-”

“I told him how much I still love him and how much I want us to be together, but he said no. I won’t ask again. I never would have asked in the first place if I’d known he was with you.”

“Fernando-”

He keeps going like Gerard hasn’t spoken. “You win, okay? He chose you, and I swear to god, if you hurt him-”

“_FERNANDO!_”

Gerard doesn’t mean to yell, but it’s the only way to get him to listen. “Did it ever occur to you I might not want him to choose?”

Fernando drops his mug. Somehow it doesn’t break, but he doesn’t doesn’t seem to notice the mug or the coffee pooling at his feet, too busy gaping at Gerard with those big dark eyes. 

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” answers Gerard, calmer than he feels. 

They stare at each other in silence. Age has settled well into Fernando’s skin. He’s still boyish, somehow, but unmistakably a man. For the first time Gerard lets himself look, really look.

“I don’t understand,” says Fernando, to himself as much as to Gerard. “Why don’t you  _ hate  _ me?”

“I never hated you. We were teammates, remember?”

“Yeah, a long time ago. It doesn’t matter.”

He looks so sad. If Fernando was anyone else Gerard would go to him and offer a hug, but he can’t risk spooking him now. Not when he’s so close to getting what he came for.

“You’re right. What does matter though...you love Sergio. And he loves you just as much.”

Fernando throws his hands in the air, then yelps as he puts one socked foot right in the spilled coffee.

“Yeah, which is why- fuck, hand me that rag on the table next to you? He pushed me away.”

Gerard hands it over. “Yeah, and he’s been miserable ever since, which is what I’ve been trying to tell you. We both love him and want to make him happy. I think we could, together.”

He’s amazed at how calm he sounds. Maybe it made sense all along, even before he realized it. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s about thirty seconds away from puking, panicking, or both.

“Let’s pretend for a second that you’re serious,” says Fernando from his place on the floor. “How would this even work?”

“I...haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” Gerard admits, and gets a glare so deadpan it startles him into laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He gets down on the ground to help Fernando finish cleaning. “We can figure it out. If you and I ever...I don’t know...got physical, we’d talk about it first so we’re on the same page. But. Like. I’ve seen you naked, remember? Even if we never do anything together, being close to you while other stuff happened wouldn’t exactly be a hardship. I mean. Not that I’m thinking about it. Except I have, obviously. Because I’m here.”

Gerard forces himself to shut up. Jesus Christ, he rambles when he’s nervous. He risks a glance at Fernando. Instead of looking disgusted, he looks faintly amused. 

“Why are you like this?”

Gerard shrugs and tries to ignore the heat in his cheeks. “Sergio asks me the same thing.”

“Like he has any room to talk,” mutters Fernando. “Oh. Fuck. I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay. It’s not like you’re wrong about either of us.”

Fernando gives him a long look. “I’m not saying yes to anything, but...when do you have to be back in Barcelona? Or have you not thought that far ahead yet?”

“I have a couple days.”

“Good. Will you…” This time Fernando’s the one to drop his gaze. “Um. Stay here. Tonight, and we’ll talk about this.”


	3. Sergio

The memories won’t fade.

Sergio spent almost a decade trying to forget, only to have the ghost of Fernando fucking Torres show up at his door and kiss him like no time has passed. It’s not fair that he’s still the most beautiful boy Sergio’s ever seen, that his eyes still tell every truth in his soul, that he’s still so fucking  _ earnest.  _ It’s bullshit, all of it.

Love isn’t fair. It never was.

Sergio toys with calling Gerard, but it feels rude to call his current boyfriend just to bitch about his ex. Again. Fuck. 

He’s on the couch watching YouTube videos and feeling sorry for himself when his phone beeps with a text from Gerard.

_ you home? gonna be there in about 30 seconds _

Swearing, Sergio scrambles up. He’s still in his sweatpants and didn’t bother to shave this morning; he was looking forward to being a lazy bastard all day, but maybe this is just what he needs.

_ didn’t know we were at the romantic surprise phase of our relationship, _ he texts back, smiling as the melancholy starts to fade out of his mood. 

_ fuck off i’m the most romantic, _ answers Gerard, and it startles a laugh out of Sergio. Year, okay. This is good.

He hurries out of the living room. In the distance he hears the front door opening and Gerard’s voice calling his name. 

“I’m right here, quit-”

Sergio skids to a stop. Gerard’s not alone. “What..the fuck…”

The blood drains from his face so fast it makes him a little dizzy. Fernando. Here. Holding Gerard’s hand, and looking...about as fucked up as Sergio feels, actually.

“Sergio, just listen,” Gerard starts, but Sergio cuts him off.

“No, no. What. The _ fuck  _ is going on here? You brought him? Why? To, to...throw it in my face? Fucking hilarious.”

“That’s not-”

“Yeah, okay, Not everybody gets over their exes like you and Fàbregas.”

It’s a low fucking blow, but Sergio’s too upset to care. They need to get the fuck out so he can cry, or break something, or both.

Fernando shakes his head. Jesus,  _ why  _ is he holding onto Gerard? He shouldn’t be holding Gerard, let alone moving closer to him. This...cannot be happening. 

“Sergio-”

“No. You don’t get to say a fucking word, Torres.”

Fernando bites his lip in the way that means he’s trying not to cry. Sergio hates that he can still read him so well. He watches Fernando steel himself and he knows, just  _ knows,  _ that Fernando is about to break his heart.

“I- leaving you was the worst mistake I ever made.” 

Sergio makes a wounded sound. Fernando keeps going. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so, so sorry, and I know how fucking insignificant that is after everything, but I mean it. I. I never stopped loving you, I don’t think I ever will, but I get it. I understand that you don’t want to be with us, so I’ll go.”

It feels like an out-of-body experience watching Fernando turn around, hug Gerard, and whisper a few words to him before starting towards the door and walking outside. None of it registers, until the full meaning hits Sergio like a freight train. 

“What did he mean, ‘us?’”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you,” says Gerard gently. “You, me, Nando...it could work. We’re willing to try, if you are.”

Sergio’s off like a shot before he even finishes the sentence. Nando, oh god,  _ Nando,  _ he can’t have gotten too far, even if he called a cab it can’t be here already, he can’t be gone yet, Sergio can’t lose him  _ again.  _

“FERNANDO!”

The slight hunched figure by the gate turns around. His face is wet and his eyes are red, but god, he’s still so lovely, and Sergio almost tackles him in the rush to get him in his arms.

“Nando, oh my god.”

Even now, with so many years and memories between them, he fits perfectly in Sergio’s arms like he always did, the distance gone as they cling to each other. Sergio buries his face in Fernando’s neck and tries to breathe. Oh god, this is real, this is happening, he can have his whole heart and not have to choose.

“Don’t leave,” Sergio chokes out. “Stay. Please?”

He feels Fernando’s shaky nod against him. They should go back inside, but that means letting go of Fernando in order to get there, and Sergio’s never letting go of him again. Eventually, though, he takes Fernando’s hand in his - god, those hands, he missed those hands - and leads him back into the house.

Gerard’s waiting for them, and the look on his face when he sees their joined hands makes the last of Sergio’s doubts fade away. Gerard is better than Nando at hiding his feelings, but Sergio knows his tells and the warmth in his blue eyes is real. He’s actually okay with this.

“This was your idea, wasn’t it?”

Gerard shrugs. “We love you. We want you to be happy. It’s that simple.”

It’s not. It can’t be, at least not forever, but maybe…fuck it. One thing at a time. Sergio keeps his eyes on Gerard’s and walks over to him, bringing Fernando with him and using his free hand to grab the back of Gerard’s neck and pull him into a kiss.

Right from the start there’s nothing innocent about it and Sergio hums. Gerard tastes like cinnamon gum and promises and he’s tall and solid as always, the steadiest person Sergio knows. Dimly he catches a soft whimper off to the side.

“Sese,” Gerard chides softly against his mouth, “don’t tell me you didn’t kiss Nando first.”

He’s actually smiling a little, the smug shit. He was probably watching them from the windows. 

Sergio squeezes Fernando’s hand, then nips at Gerard’s bottom lip. “I was a little busy, okay?”

Gerard cups his cheek and turns him towards Nando, who’s staring back at them like he’s not sure of his place in all this. 

“You see what I see?”

Sergio nods. He sees the questions, the terror of doing something wrong and ruining this, which, no. If they’re doing this, they’re fucking  _ doing it,  _ and that means making damn sure Fernando knows he’s wanted. 

“Come here, niño,” he whispers just like he used to, and reaches for his Nando.

Fernando kisses the same even now, soft and sweet with barely-restrained hunger that Sergio aches to unleash. His mouth welcomes Sergio’s tongue like it never left, giving, giving, giving, even as Gerard’s hands slide under Sergio’s shirt to rub at his hips. Fuck, he’s so glad he didn’t wear actual pants today, he’s getting hard in record time and his favorite jeans aren’t made for what’s about to happen.

“Upstairs,” he gets out, once Gerard’s mouth finds his neck and two sets of hands caress his stomach. “Get. Need both of you, now. Please.”

*

Somehow they get upstairs in one piece. Sergio’s about to congratulate them when his big toe gets caught in the hem of his sweatpants and he overbalances so badly he almost faceplants onto the bed.

He risks a glance and Gerard and Fernando. They look about five seconds away from laughing him out of his own goddamned house.

“Cat-like reflexes,” he insists, and kicks his pants off with a vengeance. The shirt is next, leaving Sergio with just his underwear. 

It’s always gratifying to see how Gerard looks at him, but now, with Fernando here too and under both of their gazes, Sergio’s almost shy. He’s not new to either of them, but they’re all new to each other. Still. No time like the present, right? He holds his hands out.

“Hey. C’mere?” he asks softly, and they come to him, trading off for more kisses. Sergio notices they don’t do more than hold hands, yet, but it’s obvious they’re okay with being close. That’s good. That’s really good. 

Fernando lifts his arms so Sergio can ease his t-shirt over his head. Fuck, it almost hurts how he’s still as pliant as he ever was, letting Sergio take the rest of his clothes off until he’s totally naked. He looks different, his tattoos are better now and he’s leaner around the middle, but that’s okay. There’s time to learn him all over again, and again. Sergio glances over at Gerard, who’s as riveted to Fernando as he is. 

Sergio grins and nudges him. “I know, right?”

Gerard nods eagerly and Fernando blushes. “Stop it, Sese. This isn’t about me.”

“Not this time,” Sergio answers with a wink. “Piqué. Clothes, off.”

“Get rid of the underwear and we’ll talk about my clothes, Ramos,” answers Gerard, but he gets with the program and the clothes come off.

God, he’s sexy. Sergio doesn’t miss how Fernando’s staring at him, either. They’re going to be so fucking hot together once they stop being shy about it. Sergio flops in the center of his bed, fumbling around for the lube, and it doesn’t take long for two beloved bodies to join him. Gerard spoons up tight against his back while Fernando snuggles in at his chest to demand more kisses. 

"We had an idea,” Gerard murmurs. “I wanna fuck you and Nando wants to suck you off. Can we?”

Christ. Whatever blood left in Sergio’s brain flees straight south. “I. Yeah? I mean, yeah. Yes. Please.”

Fernando beams at him and scoots down, then Gerard’s hand is around his cock, offering it, no, offering  _ him,  _ to Fernando. Sergio makes the mistake of looking down just in time to catch Fernando kissing Gerard’s fingers in thanks. He’s gonna blow like a teenager if they keep this up. Thank god Gerard knows enough to squeeze tight, force his orgasm back down, and keep him from coming way too soon. 

“Thanks.”

“‘Course. Love you.”

“Love you- oh, fuck,” Sergio stutters, because of course Fernando chooses that moment to take Sergio into his mouth.

He...he remembers just how Sergio likes it. The only thing to do is surrender to their knowing touches while Fernando works him slowly and Gerard opens him up. Sergio lets himself drift; it’s tricky to even think about giving their pleasure back but they don’t seem to mind. 

Gerard pushes inside him and the whole world stops. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Sergio feels the tear between moving further into Fernando’s mouth and arching back to take Gerard deeper. He’d laugh, if he could think about anything other than how much he loves them and how fucking incredible it feels to surrender. It’s all sweat and breath and the energy humming under their skins, ready to burst out at any second and consume them all. 

Sergio comes faster than he’d like, but he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed about it, not when Gerard’s whispering encouragements not just to him, but to Fernando too, telling him to swallow it all. Fernando’s little purr and easy obedience make Sergio’s spent cock twitch valiantly; there’s no way he’s getting it up again so soon but damn if his body’s not trying its best. He’s a special kind of blissed out as Gerard’s thrusts get faster and more erratic.

“Come on. Give it to me.”

Gerard does. Fuck, he does, and Sergio shivers. He’ll never get tired of being filled up like that. After a moment he rolls away but stays close, just making a space between them while he reaches for Fernando.

“Kiss him for me, niño. I can’t reach.”

Fernando shoots him a look, catching the lie in an instant, but he bites his lip and meets Gerard’s gaze with a shy expression. Sergio holds his breath and waits. He’ll respect their wishes if they don’t want this, of course he will, but maybe they just need a little nudge in the right direction.

Fernando moves forward, stops, then moves a little closer as Sergio shifts to the side. Gerard meets him the rest of the way and their lips touch without a sound. They stay like that, trading little soft motions until Fernando opens his mouth and invites Gerard in. Someone sighs, Sergio’s not sure who, but Gerard’s getting bolder now, as enamored of Fernando’s kisses as he is. He mutters something Sergio doesn’t catch, but it makes Fernando blush and grin. 

“He says I still taste like you, Sese.”

Sergio grins right back as Gerard tilts Fernando’s face up for more kisses. They’re beautiful together just like he knew they’d be, so different yet so similar in ways he can’t wait to watch them discover. He kisses his favorite cluster of freckles on Fernando’s shoulder and creeps his hand across Fernando’s hip, his stomach, down to his cock. Fernando makes a soft sound but to Sergio’s delight he doesn’t stop kissing Gerard, just clings tighter.

They’re not the same boys they were once upon a time when they used to count the days until they’d be able to touch each other again, but the thrill of getting to wrap his hand around Fernando’s cock and make him squirm is as strong as it ever was. If Sergio’s done this once he’s done it a thousand times; he spent long nights trying to forget just how to touch Fernando, how he likes it when Sergio swipes his thumb over the head  _ just right,  _ how he whispers “I love you” as easily as breathing. 

It doesn’t take long for Fernando to start shaking. Sergio fumbles for Gerard’s hand and pulls it down with a muttered, “here, help me.”

Their fingers link and they find a good fast pace around Fernando, too keyed up and eager to tease. Next time. There’s going to  _ be  _ a next time, and Sergio’s dizzy with the thought. He knows the exact moment Fernando’s about to come; he tenses, his whole body waiting, then keens, spilling over their joined hands. 

Gerard looks stunned, like he’s never seen anything quite like this. Another time Sergio would tease him for making such a stupid face, but he’s pretty sure his own isn’t any better. Fernando just has that effect on people. Gerard looks at Sergio for help when Fernando tucks his head under his chin and snuggles in tight. Sergio just shrugs.

“Just go with it. Means he likes you.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Fernando grouses without heat, and the only thing to do is laugh, kiss him, and settle in so they’re all touching.

Sated and happier than he’s been in what feels like forever, Sergio closes his eyes and tries to breathe. Is it...is it really possible, to carry all this love in his heart without overflowing?

He’ll spend the rest of his life trying, if they’ll let him. 


End file.
